#she can't stand loud/repetitive noises

[scarlet-wish-draws]

Big, big rework of my old mane 6! I kept drawing them after I said I wouldn't so... why not fix 'em up?

[felibrary]

╭──╯ POUR THE ALCOHOL HEART OUT !

PAIRING: aventurine x reader

SYNOPSIS: they say love comes when you least expect it — does that also apply to former romantic relationships?; alternatively: in which a drunk aventurine gets dumped onto you by his colleagues for you to take care of. 

wordcount: 4.3k (IM CRYING WHAT THE HELL) | content & warnings: consumption of alcohol/drunk aventurine, unestablished relationship (exes), angst if you squint, topaz is referred to here by jelena (her real name), reader is mentioned to wear jewelry, hints/implications of starvation/ed (?)- not eating, insecure!aventurine, kind of rushed and open ending - interpret it however you'd like :-) ; oneshot

tags: @azullumi (hi pookiemon who def wont read this also its 4:20 rn and I'm writing ur note before my synopsis. send help pls)

AUTHORS NOTE: someone praise me for the creative title :p and sorry that this took so long i'm currently experiencing writers block or whatever also just because this is long doesn't mean its good - don't get your hopes up too high 😭 if i said id like this, id be lying. but still that doesn't change the fact that id be crying if this flops..like all of my other recent works..

ding, ding, ding

the shrieking noise of your doorbell invades your ears, ringing continuously. it's annoying — unbearable even, and to worsen things you've been stuck in this predicament for the past 2 minutes now. 

with your head buried in between your fuzzy cushions, you try to drown out the noise thus completely ignoring the way your phone buzzes on the nightstand next to you. 

hopefully, your neighbors won't file a complaint about loud noise against you, but that's a problem for tomorrow. right now you're faced with a worse matter: making those who interrupted your sleep leave. 

do these people not know what a peaceful slumber is? (apparently not when they have the time to pay you a visit during this time.) 

almost as if your prayers were heard, the noise dies down and you sigh in relief. lazily you shift around in your bedsheets to be in a more comfortable position, nuzzling your head into the cool pillows once more.

but just when you think that the people have finally left, the agitating noise starts once again, and you have to stop yourself from letting out an irritated groan.

slowly you roll yourself out of the comfort of your bed. now sitting on the edge of your bed you’re contemplating; dwelling if you should really stand up now and open the door. 

it could be a bunch of strangers, and who knows which danger will encounter you.

you let out a defeated sigh. whatever it may be, it can't be that bad. turning sideways you try to search for your phone, and upon finding it your lips curl up into a small triumphant smile.

your fingers hover over the buttons on the side before pressing a finger onto the power button. upon seeing the bright light you blink a bunch of times, lashes pressing against each other in a repetitive motion to get used to the light first.

(2) missed calls by an unknown caller ID +xxxxxx: mx. [name] please be so kind as to open the door. thank you.  +xxxxxx: it’s urgent, please.  +xxxxxx: would you be so kind as to do us this favor, for his and our sake? 

a bunch of notifications light up on your screen but you decide to ignore them. instead, you use your phone as a flashlight to guide you through the dark of your apartment. 

who in the right mind decides to ring your doorbell at this time? and who in the right mind chooses to open the door despite the possible dangers? (you.)

despite the door serving as a separation between your apartment and the hallway, you can clearly hear two people bickering outside your apartment door.

“..ritas, hold him tighter. you're letting him fall,” the voice belongs to a woman, and she seems to be concerned about someone, that's the most you can tell.

“i am not. it's not that dark to tell that that is clearly your arm which is slipping from his body,” this time a man speaks up. his voice is hoarse and stern as he corrects the woman. 

well, this is going to be fun. you take a deep breath before opening the door, let's just hope for the best.

as you open the door, you're met with two unfamiliar faces. 

amidst the dimly lit hallway stands a woman with white hair and a red streak on her bangs. her eyes look like shards of crystals that have been puzzled together, simply magnificent. 

next to her stands a tall man, his golden eyes are hidden beneath his dark bangs which stick to his forehead, nevertheless, the warm light that radiates from the pair of honey-colored eyes shines through the depths of the night.

and squished in between them is someone else. hanging from above the ceiling there are a few lamps that adorn the hallway. the warm light that they shed lands upon the back of the person's head making their golden hair look like a shiny coin that swims amidst the ocean.

from the clothes and their silhouette, you'd figure that they're a man, however, you can't be sure due to their face being hidden.

so many questions race through your mind, who are these people? do they know what time it is? and what are they doing in front of your door? 

but the only thing you can utter at this moment is a curt and groggy: “sorry, how can i help you?”

an apologetic smile finds its way onto the woman's lips, and this time you're able to take a proper look at her. 

there are dark circles surrounding her colourful eyes and you can only wonder why she's up so late when instead she should be getting well-deserved sleep.

“apologies, how rude of us to not introduce ourselves. you can call me to- jelena. and next to me is doctor veritas ratio,” 

the man she tilts her head towards only nods in acknowledgment which you can only return. “well, it's nice to meet you, jelena and veritas. is there something you need from me?”

both names feel familiar to your ears as if you've heard them once or twice before, although you're not sure where you've heard them.

“and, that in the middle might be who?” your eyes drift over the person whose arms are draped around the backs of topaz and veritas.

“that's exactly why we're here,” hearing veritas’ voice makes you look up in surprise. “we're aventurine’s colleagues and we brought him here for you to take care of him,”

this has to be some sort of dream if not a nightmare at worst.

you're completely awake now, with furrowed eyebrows and an awkward smile on your lips you stare at the person — well aventurine as you now know, in utter disbelief. 

the only thing you're able to choke out at this very moment is a strained. “i’m sorry?” 

“you've heard me the first time, i don't like repeating myself — you're supposed to take care of that guy of a nuisance here.” veritas nudges aventurine’s shoulder to make his point clear. 

your ex and his colleagues standing in front of your door at maybe like two am in the morning had to be some sort of torture-like fever dream. 

“no, with all due respect: no.” you quickly mutter with gritted teeth before trying to slam the door shut as soon as possible. 

jelena, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be a fan of your idea and quickly puts her foot into the space between your door and the hallway as a way to stop you from closing the door.

“i..” she starts, but you notice the heavy side-eye she receives from veritas that makes it known that she's not the only one who's tired of aventurine and his shenanigans, and thus makes jelena quickly correct herself. 

“well, we know that it's unbelievable — unbelievably stupid if you might even say so, but hear us out okay?” she pleads.

she's making it hard for you to say no, so the only thing you can do is lean against your doorframe and listen to her. 

(what other choice do you even have when veritas is shooting burning stares right through you.)

jelena sighs embarrassedly. “aventurine invited us out to drink today, i’ve — no, we have found it suspicious and weird right off the bat, but he insisted and the tab was on him so it would've been rude not to go.” 

“well, our instincts were right because he kept mourning and babbling our ears off about how he'd be drinking this glass of wine with you on your guys' anniversary today instead of this bar,” jelena begins before taking a small pause as if contemplating what to tell you next.

her eyes take the shape of crescent moons and she proceeds to press her lips into a strained smile before continuing. “it was kinda endearing to watch at the beginning but over time it became unbearable,” she murmured more to herself than to you.

you can only try to imagine the scene. aventurine with red-tinted ears and a flushed face babbling about how he misses you. 

great, how dreamy.

veritas coughs to bring the attention to him, snapping you out of your thoughts “well, after that he fell flat onto the counter and we thought that he had suddenly fainted,” he adds. “until he then started whining about how he wanted to go home. so here we are.” 

now you're just confused. now, why is he here again?

“how does home refer to my place now? his place is or at least was much bigger than mine,” you scoff skeptically before realizing that that have might come over as rude. “sorry, i’m just confused and don't see any connections here. also, how'd you know where i live oh, and my number?”

jelena mutters out a small it's fine and veritas only sighs. “so you see, we tried to drive him back to his place but when we arrived he started complaining that he wants to go home — you.” 

“he started pulling out his phone and set your address on the GPS before demanding or well ordering us to drive him to your place,” he lets out an exasperated sigh upon explaining. 

“as for your number, due to his phone still being on we went through his contact list and found you right on top — saved at his emergency contact. endearing, really, ” veritas remarks sarcastically.

you're surprised — pleasantly surprised. aventurine still thinks of you? 

“correction: i was the one who drove.” jelena suddenly objected as she threw veritas a heavy side-eye.

“yes, but it's still us — we were the ones who brought him here and drove together to this place despite you being behind the wheel,  jelena,” veritas scoffs. 

“in whose car did he purge into? correct, mine. my whole car reeks of vomit now,” jelena shudders upon remembering the sight of aventurine throwing up. 

“well yes but that doesn't change the fact tha-” veritas isn't able to finish his sentence, you stop him from doing so. interrupting his complaint with one of your own.

“okay, if bickering is the only thing the both of you came here for, i don't wanna hear it. i’ll take him in, but just for tonight, is that clear?” your offer is simple. you take care of aventurine and they stop their banter so you can continue sleeping. 

it honestly benefits them more than it benefits you. 

“a nice compromise which went easier than i thought.” jelena’s face lightens up with a triumphant smile. “we'll leave him in your care then.” 

they dump aventurine onto you and he slightly topples before landing in your arms, head buried in the crook of your neck and arms tangled over your shoulders.

his warm breath fans over your neck and the close proximity makes you stiffen in place. it's not like you haven't felt this sensation before, but this time it's under different circumstances.

it's not the same as back then.

as soon as they leave aventurine in your care they bid their goodbye and leave. 

aventurine’s flushed cheeks gleam pink in the warm light, his breath tickles the exposed skin on your collarbone which almost makes you drop him.

but your arms cling onto him. grip firm and steady as you claw your hands over his clothed back, steadily holding onto him as if scared that once you lose hold of him, he'll slip out of your grasp (once more.) 

anxiety cowers at you like a child who's lost their parents and is helplessly seeking for them in a crowd of people. 

hand scarily empty as its eyes sway through the sea of people, blurred faces who will never hold one’s hand like your parents once did.

despite meeting several people who could hold your hand, whisper sweet nothings into your ear — love you; teach you what love is.

his hand is the only one you'd wrap yours around, no matter the stains and scars it leaves.

you continue to cling to him — you always did. 

well, this is certainly going to be a fun night to remember.

———————

golden rays of sunshine that beam with warmth seep through the curtains and proceed to bathe aventurine’s lying figure in the warm essence.  

the sensation tickles his skin and he lets out a muffled groan, shutting his eyes several times before eventually indulging in the morning tenderness. slowly (and after many attempts) his lilac eyes are used to the brightness. 

he’d be lying if he said that being engulfed in the luminous light wasn’t overwhelming — especially as someone who’s gotten it taken away early on and has only later been introduced to it once again. 

(although the sparkle that once resided in his eyes was long gone, there was no longer a child whose eyes once glimmered in joy upon being caressed by the sunlight.)   

being embraced by the warmth and its radiating light, he can’t help but feel like a trapped and helpless stage actor. one who despite fleeing and running away, continuously gets followed by the spotlight, thus standing in the limelight and having to perform a show for the people who are seated together in the rows below.

regardless of the people watching him, applauding for him, praising him, he feels utterly empty — empty and alone. 

although there were people to assist him on stage, co-workers around him who offered help which he reluctantly also somewhat relived accepted.

the emptiness that houses within him remains.

(perhaps he has become so accustomed to the feeling of being alone that it has been a while since he’s ever felt lonely.)

as soon as his eyes have adjusted to the brightness of his surroundings, they widen in shock. 

this surely must be a dream, right? he promised himself that he’d never return to this place despite longing to see it you again.

his eyes quickly flicker around the room in confusion. how’d he get here? this wasn’t his room or well it technically was. it’s the room he once shared with you.

it’s no wonder he’s slept this well. 

his once sleepless nights which were haunted by nightmares and resulted in hourless sessions of just staring at his ceiling, eyes trailing after the fan as it spun around in circles until the chirping of the birds outside awakened him, turned into calm nights after moving together with you.

a cloud of nostalgia fogs his mind as he recalls how you never understood why he insisted on moving into your apartment despite his being much bigger. (he supposes his place never gave him that certain sense of belonging that he sought after.)

aventurine’s eyes dart through your room to search for any changes that might have occurred.

the books you always read before going to sleep (sometimes even reading him a snippet of the part where you’re currently at) are still messily stapled on your nightstand. 

he smiles fondly before continuing his search, eyes wandering through the room and halting as he sees all the jewelry he’s bought for you, all tidily arranged on your vanity.

which contrasts with all the sticky notes that are loosely hanging off your mirror and the trinkets he's brought you from other planets that are messily splayed out on your desk.

his pink eyes pause as he catches sight of the chair next to the bed. his clothes that you “borrowed” (he always found it endearing how you walked around in his clothes as if you owned them — not like he minded) once and never gave back even after the breakup, sit neatly folded on the white chair next to your bed. 

everything is kept in place and remains the same as before: the books, the trinkets, the jewelry, and well.

his eyes drift from the chair down to his body. you changed his clothes for him.

the uneasiness that lingers in his chest slightly melts away, slowly and torturously like wax dripping off a candle.

you didn’t throw the things he gifted you away.

aventurine slips out of the covers that were once his, the sheets slightly rustle and leave behind creases as he sits at the edge of your bed. with the amount of force that aventurine uses to press his elbows against his knees it almost feels like daggers piercing into his flesh, and with his head buried between the palms of his hands, he can only laugh — a mocking grin plasters itself on aventurine’s face.

it’s ridiculous, almost pathetic the way he’s relieved. he has no right to feel so after being the one who suggested the breakup. 

he doesn’t even understand how he ended up here. jelena and veritas insisted on bringing him home, so why’s he here? everything from the former night is mushed up and blurry, he doesn’t recall the reason why he was brought here. 

neither does he understand why you offered him a place to stay, he feels like a dirty pup shamelessly returning to its owner after choosing to abandon them.

aventurine sighs before slipping into the pair of clothes that have remained untouched in the past few minutes. the shirt is a bit bigger than expected and the pants hang loosely off his hips but the scent remained the same. from the moment he let you borrow his clothes to now, the present the smell is one he’s all too acquainted with — his own. 

the only thing that he can picture at this moment is his clothes rotting in the depths of your closet, long forgotten as they get engulfed by the scent of your clothes.

his hands are hidden in the pockets of the pair of pants to conceal the way they’re trembling, fingers itching as they anxiously tap against his thigh. 

he’s nothing but a coward. 

he takes a deep breath before getting up, the goosebumps that prickle on his skin, the clenching of his teeth, and the constant urge to just storm out and leave now — they’re all suffocating him. gnawing at his skin like a rabid animal chewing the remaining flesh of a dead body.

as he enters the living room, his coat draped over the chair he’s standing in front of and you are the first things he spots. 

(as if you haven’t occupied his mind the entire time whilst being away from you — there isn’t a single day in his entire life where he doesn’t mourn after people. it’s pathetic, really, the way nostalgia torments him, but he’s a man with nothing on his hands other than the scars of the past. so what other choice does he have?)

you look up from your phone, eyes flickering around the small room before landing on the end of the dining table but aventurine’s eyes are glued to the neatly wrapped flower bouquet lying in the middle of the desk, perfectly lying there on the white table cloth.

nausea bubbles in his stomach. have you already moved on? he shouldn’t care — he’s not supposed to care, but he can’t help it. 

he exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and a wave of relief washes over him, he snaps out of his thoughts and follows your gaze, and only then does he notice the plate of assorted fruits and the bowl of steaming soup, standing on your dining table. 

as if noticing his hesitance you reluctantly speak up. “you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, i won’t force you to,” the smile you give him is somewhat strained and the way your eyes quickly fly down his body doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

his eyes widen in surprise and his immediate response to that is to quickly seat himself on the chair. “no..it’s fine,” aventurine gulps. “no need to check me out either. i’ve always liked your homecooked meals a lot, no?” he chuckles as if trying to throw a joke into the room that’ll lift the tense mood that he’s created.

(he hopes that now his body is at least somehow concealed by the table so you won’t have to stare at him any longer. he’s not worth looking at.)

“thank you for the food,” he mumbles under his breath and if you hear it you don’t acknowledge it. aventurine stares down at the food, contemplating what to do. he picks up the metal spoon lying next to it and dips it into the soup. 

breathe in, breathe out.

breathe in, breathe out.

breathe in, breathe out — you’ll be fine.

aventurine continues to stir the soup inside the bowl, sometimes lifting its contents only to let it droop down into the soup again. “so, mind telling me what happened yesterday?” 

your eyes lock from across the table and you give him a deadpan expression. “you seriously don’t remember?” the little smirk that quirks at your lips is contagious and he can’t help but smile a bit himself.

“well obviously not, when i’m asking,” he remarks back sarcastically. 

he missed bickering with you. it felt so familiar, so nostalgic — so right.

you put your phone down on the table and start explaining. “well to put it short, your colleagues, jelena and veritas if i recall correctly, brought you here because you were drunk since you kept whining about wanting to go home and well considering me as your home.”

oh.

“right and as soon as i brought you into my place you purged all over your clothes and my floor” you quickly add. “but don’t worry i washed it for you, it’s behind you.” 

“ah really? how rude of me,” he utters bashfully. “apologies then, as compensation, i’ll head home now and send some credits to your bank account although perhaps that might not be a good idea. seeing your partner’s ex (the word lies bitter on his tongue) still lurking around in their home and even sending them credits — that’d be shameless of me. apologies.”

you let out a small laugh that slightly lifts the uneasiness that has been resting on his shoulders. “aventurine, what are you even talking about?” although you seem to find fun in this, your voice is filled with confusion.

the metal spoon he has been firmly gripping for the past few minutes sags against the bowl as aventurine points at the flower bouquet sitting on the neat tablecloth. “the flowers,” he murmurs to himself more than to you.

“oh,” you laugh. “i bought them for myself,” you admit sheepishly before getting up to unwrap the bouquet, revealing a beautiful arrangement of colorful flowers.

you quickly scurry into the kitchen to fill up a vase with water before gracefully setting the flowers down into the now with water-filled vase. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” you admire the flowers with a smile on your face. “very pretty indeed.” aventurine smiles as his gaze is focused on you.

only then as you rearrange the flowers, making sure that they won’t sag over the rim of the vase, he notices the ring you’re wearing. a promise ring.

aventurine blinks a few times to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming, but he’d recognize this ring everywhere. how could he not when it’s the same ring that adorns his ring finger? 

“is there any particular reason you kept the jewelry i gifted you?” his gaze drifts to the ring that is in full display and which is glowing under your living room light. 

your eyes that were focusing on the flowers just now, suddenly look down to peek at the ring. “well, it’d be a shame to throw it away. it was expensive after all,” you express truthfully.

“but you also kept the sticky notes i wrote for you every morning in your room — you kept everything i gifted you. the pressed flower bookmarks, the shitty handmade bracelet, my clothes — everything,” he notes.

your response is nothing but short. “oh, uh yeah.”

why? he wants to ask but he knows that trying to force an answer out of you is no good, if you don’t want to respond you needn’t.

“i guess i missed having you around. the things you got me served me as a reminder that you're somehow still with me,” despite your admission being no louder than a whisper it clearly reaches aventurine’s ears.

but he’s in no position to tease you — he’s way too stunned for that, as if not being able to believe your words.

he feels like a small child who discovers that the fables and tales adults tell aren’t real, that those were made-up stories with made-up people which he so desperately tries to deny.

“i see,” he mumbles. “yeah,” you nod your head and look away. 

the awkward silence that follows is unbearable — it’s killing him. 

to know that you still think about him, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least the tiniest bit happy but he also knows that it’s ironic and that he shouldn’t feel like this.

as if you’re able to read his mind you snap him out of his thoughts with a mere question. “aventurine, what’s on your mind?”

“you always knew me too well for my own liking,” he chuckles in defeat, and in return, you can only smile.

“but, i suppose, i’m just..relieved?” he admits while staring down at the untouched soup that reflects his pleased expression.

“relieved about what exactly?” you ask curiously, head tilted to the side as you await his response. “relieved that i’m not the only one who thinks of the other,” he smiles, letting out a small sigh when doing so.

“so you were jealous or what?” you jokingly scoff. the smirk on your lips is mischievous, but your eyes deceive you. they’re soft as they stare down at him.

“don’t ask questions to which you already know the answers to.”

END NOTE: as yall can tell i seem to enjoy writing aventurine and alcohol together (ref. wyws & ttol) does the "a" in aventurine atp stand for angst or alcohol...(both) /lh

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[noemilivv]

Hello, hello! Guess who finally found the courage and time to try the Hazbin Hotel's match up? I'm sorry if I make any mistake, I'm French and a little tired right now ^^". I take this opportunity to say that I really like your writing and I feel like your interpretation of the characters is so accurate. I wish you the best for your future works!

So...

You can call me Lily, and my pronouns are she/her. I'm 20+ years-old. I have a strong preference for women and would prefer to be paired with one, please. Men actually make me feel uncomfortable and unsafe because of past experiences.

If it can help with getting my personality, I'm an INFP and an Aquarius. I tend to be seen as the mom friend or the big sister figure. I'm very patient and always here to listen to others, offer them some pieces of advice and support them through everything. Paradoxically, I don't really talk about my own problems (mostly because this girl has a problem of self-esteem and has the bad habit of seeing herself as less important than others).

I have ADHD. The bad aspects are how much I struggle to stay still and how much of a airhead I am, turning around in my appartment to find something that was actually in my hand. But the good aspect is how I love to try new things and so know how to do a lot of things (drawing, fixing, crafting, cooking, playing various sports...). I also have PTSD and can have dissociative episodes when triggered, even if it calmed down lately.

My friends describe me as someone with "golden retriever energy", mostly because as soon as I spot them, I have a big smile on my face and can't stand still, bouncing happily (but that might be ADHD too...). I always fear to be too much for others because of that. But I'm usually a calm person, I just love my friends so much. But I'm loosing my track, it's not the subject...

I'm soft spoken, so it can be surprising how I can be honest and sometimes even blunt with people, but always politely and gently. But if gentle does not work, I will be a little more frontal if needed. I'm a pacifist, but if I need to verbally put someone back in their place, I will.

In a partner, I can get along and be attracted by anyone, from bubbly to reserved. But the most important trait I seek is safety. I need to feel safe (and even protected) with people, and especially with a potential lover.

My love languages are physical touch and acts of service. When I feel comfortable with someone and that I know they are okay with it, I will seek the physical contact, such as leaning against their shoulder when m'y social battery is down and holding their sleeve, hand or arm to not lose them in a crowd. And since I like to feel useful and to make people smile, if I can do something to help or support them, I will. I would love to receive these love languages back. And from experience, I can tell that when I receive the acts of service, I'm emotional because I'm so not used to be the receiving hand of it rather than the other way around, it touches me a lot.

For the appearence, I'm 157cm tall. I wear glasses. I love wearing original earrings (and I plan to learn how to create homemade ones). Style-wise, I wear simple yet feminine clothes, always with a touch of colors. I like to style my hair, but I'm not that good at it so it often ends up in a ponytail. I have a really expressive face, I'm basically an open book on that side.

Likes : Plushies, music, sweets, animals, listening to people talking about their own hobbies. My biggest interest is Dreamcatcher (a girlgroup known as "the face of rock in K-pop").

Dislikes : Loud noises (if it's too repetitive and loud, it can even bring tears to my eyes and I can't focus anymore), being treated like a child, lies, tomatoes, alcohol.

I feel like I ended up writing a lot and made that really long... I'm sorry about that! Thank you in advance for this match up. I hope you're having a good day. And don't forget to take care of yourself! Drink water, it's important!

hey hey!! after some thought, i decided to pair you with…

Charlie !!

You both are the ultimate sunshine duo, let’s be real, but you manage to bring her back down to reality when she needs it XD

Genuinely does try to make you feel safe, and she sure as hell would protect you, as she knows those are a couple things that you value in a partner

I can also see Charlie being big on acts of service and physical affection as well so she definitely hops onto that immediately XD

[bozepomagaj]

College AU!Trigun (part 1)

I can't believe I'm actually posting something I made on a long ass car ride LMAO. I haven't written fanfics in a long time, and this is my first time with 'x reader' fanfics so you'll have to bear with me on this one, I'm treating this as an experiment to see if I can even make these types of fanfics (also I'm a lesbian. But I'm not immune to babygirls.). Criticism is always appreciated on this blog🤝. Also wanted to mention that english is not my first language so I apologize for my poor/repetitive vocabulary. This was proof read but I also apologize in case I missed a mistake or two.

|------------------------------------------------------|

Summary: you end up at a party and save a mysterious but pretty blondie that your dear friend won't shut up about

Tw: drugging

Cw: swearing, 'questionable noises' get brought up once

Word count: 2.2k

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

There was an infamous guy on campus that seemingly, everyone knew. Rumors about him spread quickly every couple of weeks but what we do know is this:

He came here through a recommendation. Didn't have to work hard like the rest because his relative, supposedly late mother, was an up-and-coming biologist who apparently stuck her nose where she shouldn't have and got killed in an 'accident'. No records of said crash could be found, presumably because the government did their best to cover it up. He barely studies and instead spends time at parties getting drunk out of his mind but luckily he's incredibly smart which means all he really has to do is anxiously study the night before the test and he'll get incredible results everytime. He's kind, caring, cheerful, and many other positive adjectives, or so you've been told by your dear friend Meryl who's been trying to get you to meet him for the past few weeks. She always complained about how you need to 'live a little' because you never went out, always nose deep in some book studying or on your phone, never the outgoing type. She never forced you to go out but this time, she had to because you needed to meet Vash Saverem, the guy she would talk about nonstop.

You stood in front of the door, loud music blaring, people screaming in excitement as their favorite song came on, lights flashing in your eyes until all you could see is white. You could even make out some... questionable sounds but this was normal. This was college. You were going to grab your phone to call Meryl when she bursts out of the front door carrying quite a large, half-unconscious man.

"Oh my god you came afterall, I thought you were gonna ditch me!"

You rolled your eyes at the comment, she promised you 20 bucks if you finally came out of your hidey-hole and who are you to say no to that type of money?

"Yeah, I need to get out from time to time too."

"Good! Now come in!"

She grabs your hand and pulls you inside, giggling while doing so. Clearly she was a little tipsy already. She dragged you to the only clean table in the house, most likely defended it with her life to make sure it stays like that.

"So it's just the two of us?"

"Nope. Others are scattered around, I'll go and find them okay? You just stay here."

It was only then that the realization of what you're doing hit you. You're about to meet her friends. 3 other complete strangers that you only knew some bits and pieces about (except Vash) and you had no idea if they were even gonna like you. You looked around nervously, contemplating if this really was a good idea. The place was already cramped but somehow it felt even more cramped and stuffy in this moment.

"Are you like... sure about this?"

"What do you mean?"

It was honestly surprising how you didn't meet her friends yet, considering how much time she spent around them and how many random stories she told you about them. You made an image in your head of every single one of the individuals she spoke of. The heavily religious Nicholas D. (she said it stands for dickhead) Wolfwood who, despite studying theology and being the first person in the church on a Sunday morning, drank like a 40 year old man with marriage problems. Milly Thompson, a total sweetheart but also not the brightest bulb who went to the gym at least 4 days every week and was fucking shredded and him. Vash. The one and only. She was convinced you two would be great friends when you meet eachother but you doubted that, considering how many stories she told you about him going out to random parties. She left as quickly as she came, looking for her dear friends. You were never much of a drinker so you just sat there, looking at your phone, rejecting random advances from drunk guys&girls alike. 20 minutes pass by and Meryl is still nowhere to be seen. You get a little concerned, these types of parties could get... out of hand at times so you get up, looking for her. You walk around, trying your best not to bump into too many people but you're still met with an occasional 'hey' and 'watch it'. It's then that you witness a different scene. Two guys holding a blondie who was clearly drunk out of his mind, babbling something while the two tried to drag him upstairs. Weird... you thought. But it was then you saw them force his mouth open and quickly throw in a small, pink pill. You might not have been to many parties, but you've seen your fair share of movies and shows to know exactly where this was going. Other people saw the scene, too, but just ignored it.

Fucking Bystander effect.

You kept looking at the scene unfolding infront of you, your mind racing at a 100 miles per hour. You wanted to help obviously but could you really go up against two guys at the same time? Or would you just end up making the situation worse? It's then that you saw both of them hesitating as the blondies legs gave out on him. It was now or never. Quickly, you approached them, putting on the bravest face one could muster up in a situation like this.

"Hey, what are you two doing?"

Their heads snap back, fear in their eyes. Clearly they didn't expect someone to approach them while doing this. They looked at eachother stammering some excuses but you cut them off.

"If you don't mind, I'll be taking my friend back so he'll sober up."

You were quick, hoisted him on your back and dragged him to the nearest bathroom, locking the two of you in a stall. He was completely out of it and you could only hope it was because of the alcohol and not the pill. You forced his mouth open, he didn't swallow the pill. But even then, it must've melted at least a little. You grab the pill and flush it down the toilet, then proceed to slap him a few times so he could maybe, just maybe get a hold of himself.

"Hey, buddy wake up. What's your name?"

You kept trying but it wasn't working. He tried to say something but the words were slurred and nonsensical. You ran to the bar to get a cup of water then returned, making him drink it in hopes it would somehow help. You got your phone and tried to call Meryl to find out this mysterious mans identity at the very least but she wasn't picking up. Texting also didn't work. Frustration and anxiety kept building up, you never expected to be in this situation when suddenly, the guy handed you his apartment keys which you recognized immediately. Meryl had s similar pair which meant they lived in the same apartment complex. After some weird glances and bumping into people, you two managed to drag yourself out of the house, it felt like hours had passed by the time you were in front of his apartment, the poor guy still completely out of it. You unlocked the door hastily and dragged him inside. The apartment was... large. And fancy. Not really what you expected from someone like him. You look around, trying to find a bedroom and on your 4th try, you do. You drag him inside and lay him on the bed, taking off his long coat and his shirt so he doesn't overheat. You give him some more water to drink when finally, Meryl calls you back. Her voice is muffled, loud music still blaring and people talking in the background.

"Where'd you go? I can't find you anywhere."

"No shit, I'm freaking out cuz I'm at some guys's apartment."

You hear Meryls voice shift to being slightly panicked.

"What? Did they take you there? Are you okay?"

"I am fine but the guy certainly isn't! Someone gave him a fucking pill and I dragged him back to his apartment, he didn't swallow the pill so like... maybe he'll be fine."

"Holy fuck, uh, do you want me to come over or something?"

"I'll be fine but I'm going straight home after this. Maybe I can meet your friends another time."

"Yeah, yeah no problem. Sorry about all this I uh... didn't expect this."

You hang up and sigh heavily, putting your head in your hands assessing your situation. You're in a random, half-unconscious guys apartment, sitting down on the floor close to tears because this was NOT how this night was supposed to go. You were supposed to be drinking while meeting new friends and overall having a hell of a time. You decide there's no time to wallow in your misery and you get up, checking back on the guy. He's sleeping soundly, his beautiful facial features still visible by the moonlight seeping through the window. In a way he looked angelic... otherworldy. You grabbed a pen and some paper and wrote a small note.

"Dear stranger,

We don't know eachother but I dragged you home cuz you almost got roofied. If you still feel sick in the morning, please call an ambulance. I hope your hangover isn't too bad.

Ps. Here's my phone number in case you need help with anything."

You left it on the nightstand and quietly exited the apartment. You stumbled back home, absolutely wasted from... well, everything. You got changed, did your nightly routine and the moment your head hit the pillow you fell asleep, exhausted from everything that happened.

-|-

You woke up to the sound of your phone blaring and vibrating. You grabbed it with an annoyed groan slipping past your lips. You tried to turn off your alarm... but realize it was actually a call. Who the, and excuse my language, FUCK would be calling you at 6:07am? You answer with a raspy voice, not even bothering to clear your throat.

"Oh my God you actually picked up, hi! I'm the guy you helped yesterday."

And just like that you were wide awake. Memories of last night flooded your brain as panic set in again.

"Hey, hi, are you okay? Did you call an ambulance?"

"No I didn't, I'm doing fine now thanks to you. I wanted to thank you for helping me out. If I'm being honest I don't remember a thing so... I'm just glad I'm home safe. Thank you."

His voice was like honey, you couldn't tell if he actually sounded that nice or because you still weren't fully awake and being complemented this early in the morning gave you a kind of an adrenaline rush.

"It's no big deal really, it's the least I could've done."

You replied with a small giggle. Not sure what was so funny but just the fact that someone came to thank you for your good deed felt nice.

"It is a big deal though! I'm treating you to coffee or some cakes, I know a really good place. But it would be nice if I knew your name."

Overly-sweet, he was just like the cakes he mentioned. You couldn't help yourself but to smile, it's rare to find people like these today.

"Yeah, sure. The name is (Y/N) (L/N). And you, my mysterious drunken man?"

He giggled at the nickname. For someone to sound so angelic and energetic at 6:10am, he left you in an awe.

"Vash Saverem."

And with that your jaw just dropped. He was the guy you were supposed to get drunk with yesterday, chat about something random and not drag him half-dead body home, wondering if he'll be okay or not. You stayed silent for a couple seconds before nervously talking.

"Oh my God I know you. Kind of, you don't know me but- it's hard to explain okay? We'll talk more when we meet up, bye."

You could hear him protest on the other side of the phone but you quickly hung up out of shock and disbelief. It's like this couldn't get any weirder. You quickly call Meryl, she was gonna murder you for calling her this early but it would only be right to tell her about her friend, right? The phone rang once... twice... three times... four times... and then you heard a loud, pissy groan.

"Seriously. 6am? What is wrong with you."

"Remember the guy I had to drag home yesterday? Turns out it was Vash."

Thank the lord you moved your phone away from your ear because the screech she let out was ungodly.

"You're kidding right!? How do you know!? And is he even okay now?"

Her voice was panicked, you could tell she was concerned about her friend.

"Yes, yes he's fine now. He called me this morning cuz I left him my phone number in case he needed me for something. I still think you should go check on him, just in case."

Meryl hangs up hastily, most likely to run over to Vash's apartment to see how her friend is doing. You just stay there staring at the wall.

You wonder if you'll ever get those 20 bucks she mentioned.

[tehuti88-art]

9/13/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Otto Himmel's adopted children: Simon, Anneliese, Elka, Erna, Hugo, Monika, and Alwin. Himmel and his wife Dagmar always wanted a large family but she died giving birth to their only son Kolten; after the war, Himmel adopts a handful of orphans and with Johanna Wolfstein raises them as their own. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their design, Elka and Erna are twins, while Hugo, Monika, and Alwin are siblings, so I gave them all distinctive lighter colored ears. Simon is the oldest of them, Anneliese the youngest.

TUMBLR EDIT: Whoo a bunch this week! For starters, please see Johanna Wolfstein's entry for how she and Himmel end up together after the war and how their family begins. Himmel's beloved wife, Dagmar, died of blood loss following Kolten's birth years ago, dashing Himmel's hopes of having a big family (during the war he envied his boss's, Jäger's, large brood, spoiling them whenever he had the chance, and was heartbroken following their deaths in the Alpine Fortress); he and Johanna, who'd also wanted kids yet couldn't have any, decide they can patch together a family together, following an orphanage visit. This entry will afterward be individualized for each child though I haven't much to share yet so these should be short. Here we go!

I'll just cover the siblings together. I don't know much about Hugo and his younger siblings, Monika and Alwin, just yet, except that the youngest, Alwin, is disabled in some way, similar to Kolten (Kolten almost surely has some sort of moderate autism) only more severe (Kolten has the intellectual capacity of approximately a five year old, and can't read or write, but can do simple repetitive chores such as chopping wood and basic self care, while Alwin is unable to speak, and needs help tending to himself). Their family has to go into hiding because of Alwin, who would be targeted by the Nazis for extermination otherwise. For some reason, they live while their parents don't, but manage to stay together--the oldest child, practical Hugo, taking charge--and survive long enough to end up in the orphanage...where no one wishes to adopt all three as a group (especially not Alwin), so nobody will adopt them at all. Hugo always speaks for the shy, fretful Monika and the voiceless Alwin, insisting that he won't leave them behind. He's loyal and stubborn that way. The administrator decides to ask Himmel, who's already adopted a few difficult cases--SS child Anneliese, and twins Elka and Erna--if he'd be willing to adopt another set of siblings, including the disabled Alwin. It's the knowledge of Himmel's son, Kolten, that prompts her to try; Himmel's already proven he knows how to handle such things, so perhaps he'll be able to handle Alwin's challenges as well.

Himmel agrees to meet the trio. Hugo is polite, yet standoffish; he's used to people showing interest, then moving on the moment they find out the three are a package deal with a special needs child. Himmel doesn't seem fazed by this, however; he's cordial to Monika as well, and greets Alwin even after Hugo tells him Alwin can't respond. They're offered the chance to stay overnight at his house and see how they fit in. Hugo doesn't get his hopes up, though Monika is definitely hopeful.

The drive there is over an hour, much of it along bumpy country roads. Alwin takes as much as he can stand before the truck hits one bump too many and he starts squalling. His cries are so piercing they startle Himmel and he nearly drives them off the road; he pulls aside and asks what's wrong. Hugo and Monika have to explain that the ride is just too much for Alwin to take all at once; loud noises, jarring sensations, even something like a scratchy blanket or a lumpy pillow can bring on a lengthy series of shrieks. Himmel asks what can he do to settle Alwin down long enough to finish the ride; Hugo says he needs time to squall himself out first, but the moment they get back on the road he's likely to just start anew. He figures this will be enough to convince Himmel to turn around and take them back...yet Himmel asks if Alwin will tolerate being picked up and handled. He will, that doesn't bother him, though Hugo is puzzled by the question. Himmel says that when his son Kolten was a baby, his temper tantrums could sometimes be soothed by carrying him around and rocking him. Alwin isn't a baby, though he's relatively small; everyone but him gets out of the truck, and Himmel picks him up, balancing him on his arm, and starts walking around the vehicle. He bounces him lightly at first, which Alwin doesn't seem to like, so then he starts swaying as he walks instead, a slow rocking motion. Hugo and Monika look on, skeptical...yet then, wonder of wonders, Alwin's cries gradually become not so strident, dying down to just regular crying.

Himmel continues walking Alwin around until he's merely whimpering and sniffling before saying, "All right, we're not too far. Back in the truck, bitte!--we'll be there in no time." Hugo warns him that Alwin will surely start screaming as soon as they get going again; Himmel tells him not to worry, they'll figure it out and get there soon. He doesn't put Alwin back between his siblings like before, but places him on his lap; Alwin just continues sniffling when the big truck roars and creaks back to life and pulls into the road, though soon enough it hits a rock and he whimpers. A second bump, his mouth opens wide--Himmel grasps the wheel and starts swaying back and forth and humming loudly, a song Hugo and Monika recognize as a lullaby. Alwin's attempted scream fades into another whimper and he does nothing more than snuffle and whine softly the entire rest of the ride, Himmel rocking him and humming the entire way.

Himmel is obviously tired and sore by the time they finally pull up to the country mansion, his limp a bit more noticeable after he sets Alwin aside and slowly climbs out to stretch his back, so Hugo carries his whimpering brother. A woman carrying a little girl, older twin girls following them curiously, comes out to greet them as Himmel introduces them by name (Hugo had expected him to forget their names). The other three children are also adopted, it turns out; Hugo and Monika seem to vaguely remember the twins at least, though they never really interacted. "Johanna, fetch Kolten, bitte...?" Himmel says, gesturing toward Hugo; "This little one here, I think Kolten might like to meet him." Hugo has no idea who Kolten is or why he should meet Alwin specifically; after Johanna disappears then returns, he hugs Alwin to him tighter, feeling anxious. Kolten is HUGE, and he's scary. Hugo is just small but he does his best to look as big and intimidating as he can, Monika shrinking back behind him; and something strange happens--Kolten, who'd been approaching after Himmel gestured him forward, seems to mirror Monika, or else do the opposite of Hugo, head lowering, body shrinking in, making himself smaller. Obviously he can't ACTUALLY make himself small, but the illusion is effective; although Hugo tries to maintain his stance, Monika relaxes somewhat.

Himmel introduces his son. Hugo is surprised--he has his own son?--why take in other people's kids? It's also surprising that his son is so much bigger and taller than the rather slight Himmel, even though they share the same facial expressions and physical mannerisms. "Kolten, this little one here is Alwin," Himmel says--"Hallo," Kolten promptly says to Alwin--at which Himmel adds, "Alwin has some challenges, Kolten, I think he may be a little like you," and Kolten looks at Alwin curiously. "Does he like to play?" Himmel asks Hugo; Hugo replies that Alwin doesn't so much play, as pick things up and move them around in his hands. "He doesn't know how to play," Monika pipes up, "he just likes feeling and moving things around. But not scratchy things." Himmel looks at Kolten--"You hear, Kolten...?" and Kolten nods and approaches--"He's all right to be carried," Himmel says, but Hugo refuses to hand Alwin over when he holds out his arms. Kolten seems nonplussed and unsure what to do until Hugo murmurs, "I...I'd like to carry him, bitte." He worries about offending him, but Kolten simply withdraws and says, "I have blocks, they're wood, wood is not scratchy, nein...?" Hugo, perplexed, says he doesn't think so. Himmel tells them to follow Kolten inside and he'll show Alwin his things while he and Johanna prepare rooms for them.

Kolten has a repurposed playroom in the house, a large side parlor with shelves for blocks and books; Hugo stares in awe at a huge, unfinished building upon one shelf, and wanders toward it; "Bitte, look but do not touch my building...?" Kolten says in a plaintive voice, then as if in apology for the request, "You can touch these blocks if you want," he indicates the loose blocks sitting in a bin and upon another shelf, then hurries to grab a triangular one, clutching it close--"Except this one," and he makes gestures for them to help themselves. Hugo sees how anxious he is, and can tell he's uncomfortable sharing his blocks but is doing so anyway...he's seen Alwin get upset when other people handle whatever he's currently interested in, and recognizes that reaction here. Kolten may not be as profoundly disabled as Alwin is, but there are similarities. Hugo refrains from touching the blocks himself, yet sets Alwin down near some; Alwin notices a particular block immediately, picks it up, and starts turning it around and around in his hands, fascinated; he even puts his mouth on it. Kolten blinks and looks at Hugo. "He won't try to eat it, promise," Hugo insists anxiously; Kolten responds by picking up a block, peering at it, putting it in his mouth a moment, then taking it back out, giving a puzzled shrug. "Maybe a different shape tastes better," he says doubtfully.

"May I, may I...?" Monika exclaims, hopping from foot to foot and pointing--she's noticed the shelf of drawing pads and crayons and pencils. Kolten nods--"Ja"--and she helps herself, happily getting lost in making drawings. "You want to play with anything...?" Kolten asks Hugo; when Hugo just looks lost--he's so used to protecting his siblings that now that they're both content and preoccupied doing other things, he has no idea what to do--Kolten ventures, "If you don't like to play with blocks or books or drawings, what do you like...?" And Hugo just says, "I...I don't know." Honestly, he's not even sure he knows how to play anymore.

Kolten seems equally perplexed. Himmel appears in the doorway and inquires how things are going. He's pleased that Alwin is absorbed in the blocks, cooing and turning them around and around, while Monika hums and colors in a drawing; "He does not know what to play," Kolten says of Hugo, who blushes. "Oh...?" says Himmel, frowning; "Well...if you're not interested in Kolten's things...would you like to help Johanna? She's in the kitchen right now, cutting up some snacks for you and the others to eat. And when you're done eating if you'd like you can help me in the garden, I can always use another pair of hands."

There it is--this sparks Hugo's interest. Helping. He's gotten rusty at playing, what with protecting and keeping his family together--but helping, he knows how to do. Playing feels frivolous, something smaller children do; helping feels useful, something older kids like him do. Himmel advises Kolten to keep a close eye on Alwin and Monika--"Ja, Papa"--and gestures for Hugo to follow him. Hugo is soon busy in the kitchen washing, cutting, and arranging fruit slices with Johanna and one of the twins, then after everyone eats, he helps Himmel pull weeds and prune twigs as the other twin chases a giggling Anneliese around. "Your nails are filthy," Himmel says once they're done, "that's how you know you did a good job," and Hugo beams from ear to ear. Everyone washes up for supper--a raucous meal with everyone talking and yelling at once, Himmel swaying Alwin on his knee to distract him from the noise--then sits in the den, by the fire, for Himmel to read them a story from one of Kolten's books--then gets ready for bed, everyone scurrying to their rooms. "I thought you three might want to stay together tonight," Himmel tells Hugo and Monika as he shows them and Alwin to their room, "though if you decide to stay longer, you can have your own rooms." The implication is clear: He'll take them in if they wish him to, and he won't split the family up.

"If..." Hugo says, falters, starts anew at an encouraging look from Himmel, "if we stay...could Alwin stay in my room?" He knows Monika will be fine, but can't bear the thought of Alwin being on his own.

"Of course," Himmel says; "Of course he can stay with you. Whatever makes you all most comfortable." He steps to the door, fingers on the lamp chain; "Keep it on, bitte...?" Monika murmurs, she's always been a little scared of the dark. Himmel smiles faintly; "Of course," and slips out the door. "Schlaf gut," he says, and leaves the door a crack open when he departs, without Hugo needing to ask.

Needless to say, by the next day everyone is pretty much decided. Hugo, Monika, and Alwin won't be remaining at the orphanage.

Please see Hugo's siblings' entries: Kolten, Simon, Anneliese, Elka and Erna, Monika and Alwin.

[Hugo Himmel 2024 [‎Friday, ‎September ‎13, ‎2024, ‏‎12:04:14 AM]]

[erigold13261]

how does everyone in nsr stim

Ooooh, been a bit since I thought about something like this! I don't think I have an answer for everyone, but I'll do my best! I'll just put their main stim, but they most likely do more than one type!

Mayday: Definitely waves her hands around, uses her hands to talk, just does anything to keep her hands moving. When her hands are still for too long she feels cramped and kinda like itchy or uncomfortable. Even just drumming her hands like Zuke does helps her when she can't wave her hands around.

Zuke: Mainly does repetitive things like clapping and drumming his fingers. Will also bounce his leg at times but his back might end up hurting if he does that too much so he usually stays with using his hands.

DJSS: As a kid I can see him making his arms go spaghetti mode and twirling around or jumping up and down, but as they grew older I see him more as biting onto things. Mostly cold things, like ice cream or just straight up ice, but also things like pens, pencils, and probably other stuff that should never be in someone's mouth, but since he isn't fully human, they don't have to fully worry about the dangers.

Sayu: As a robot/mermaid, ze will just swim around in circles and loops or twirl mer trident around like a baton or even hit digital rocks with it. As a android/human, depending on if ze can walk with a cane or needs a wheelchair that day, ze will wiggle mer cane around when standing still or sitting, or will tap mer fingers on mer chair or roll back and forth or spin a little in mer chair.

Remi: Doodler. He will draw on himself if he has to. As long as he has some kind of way to draw or create, he will use that as a stim. Very much loves to create patterns so when he and Eve hang out, sometimes she will let him draw henna art on her extra arms.

Tila: Most of her stims would be vocal, like singing or making random noises. Her and Dodo will whistle together sometimes. Also she hums a lot to herself. Repeating songs is a very common thing for her along with making up songs as she is doing stuff.

Sofa: They definitely have a whole stim board that lights up and makes sounds. It absolutely has the most clicky sounding buttons and knobs that they can play with. They bit it themselves and made sure it was super durable so they could throw it a round and then go back to pressing all the buttons and knobs and stuff. When they don't have the board though, they click their pen or take apart their pen a lot.

Dodo: He's a whistler. Whistling and tapping his feet. He gets a lot of his energy out using sign language or practicing dance moves with/for Sayu, so he only really whistles or taps his feet when he needs to stim.

Yinu: I feel like she would pull out her flowers and pick the petals off. If she does it right then there is no pain like pulling out hair, and she will just regrow the flowers back in like a week. Though Mama tries to get her to do other stims so Yinu will also make paper stars or other little origami things that are easy to make while listening in on a meeting or whatever.

Mama: I don't feel like she would stim all that much, but I can see her running her hand down her hair/head tail thing when she might be nervous, though she doesn't get nervous all that much. She seems like a person who bottles things up and doesn't try to let her feelings out ever since Papa passed.

Neon J: Before becoming a cyborg he would crack his knuckles and joints along with pulling out his hair (or when it was very long he would bit his hair and try to like cut it with his teeth but also suck on it). After he became a cyborg he just worked on all kinds of machinery to fidget with. Also keeps those fidget car gear shift with him when out so he can play with in his pocket.

Rin: I feel like it would be someone who randomly flings its arms for a moment and then stop. Like sudden bursts of energy that happen and cause Rin to hit one of its fist into its palm or would stomp one of its feet for a like 3 very loud stomps and then stop. When out in public it probably clasps its hands together and then squeezes its hands very tightly to try and not stomp or fling its arms out and possibly hit someone.

Purl-Hew: Makes weird noises and growls. Will also hit things, like their own head at times, though they only do their more violent stims when alone so others don't judge them. Mainly will make more animalistic sounds along with biting things, mainly writing utensils (has broken a pen in their mouth before)

Zimelu: She walks on her tiptoes around the house and will play with her hair when it's down. Just fidgets a lot. Will sometimes steal Neon J's fidget toys and play with them so her hands are moving. Will destroy pens by taking them apart and then straightening the spring.

Haym: If he can he will just cook, especially things like bread that needs kneading or something that needs to be stirred for a long time. If he can't cook then he will instead play with his own hair making braids.

Eloni: Plays with her hair mainly. But he also plays a lot of games, both keyboard and controller, so those are great stims being able to press buttons a lot.

Eve: Use to be a big nail biter, especially when she was a teen, but tries not to do that because she wants her nails to look good. Changed to playing with her hair but once she started styling it into her outfits she had to give that up as well. Now she will make extra limbs and either rub her arms or will fidget with her finger/bracelets while working with her main arms.

Tatiana: Use to strum her fingers as if she is playing an air guitar, but stopped after becoming the CEO of NSR and now will click her tongue with her mouth closed repeatedly.

Kliff: I see him as a chewer. Biting styluses or chewing gum. Probably also likes to rub different textures which is why he seems to where a bunch of different textured clothes and accessories. Also fidgets with the ends of his scarf, hair, or beard a lot.

DK West: Like Zuke he prefers more rhythmic stims, but he will definitely clap a lot. Sometimes he will just continuously clap for a solid few minutes very loudly until he feels better.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Hi lovely! If you're taking requests, would you mind doing a Spider-Man fic where Peter gets really sick at school and for some reason aunt may can't come so tony comes to take him back to the tower and takes care of him?? Thank you so much!!

(Combined because of similarity!! and also wanted to play with different ideas bc lets be real a lot of my spiderman stuff are repetitive!! And also emeto warning later in the fic!)

There’s nothing Aunt May hates more than leaving Peter.

She’s a tough lady, Peter knows this, and she will never admit this, but Aunt May is afraid of leaving him. Peter doesn’t blame her.

She has dealt with loss far too many times. A person with that kind of a heart does not deserve that turmoil. She’s a beautiful woman, and Peter admires her, and he will do anything to keep her happy. He tries to be safe for her, although duty calls, but in the hardest of battles he thinks of her to stay alive.

So when Aunt May was called to do an important business trip down in LA, she was frantic. She had spent the past weeks trying to figure out where Peter should stay, what foods she should leave behind, running over everything with Peter, how much money she should leave, and so on and so forth. Peter admired how much she cared, but all of this wasn’t necessary.

To top it off, Peter had started to develop a bit of a cold. At the time it had been the slightest of coughs, and a bit of a sniffle here and there, but it was enough to send the poor woman into hysterics.

The only thing that eased her troubled mind in the end was Tony Stark’s offer to keep Peter for the week she was gone. It was only then she was able to relax, knowing Peter was in good hands. She had apologised, softly reminding Peter how he was all she had. Peter understood, he really did. He would keep him safe as much as he could. But crime did not wait. The world just kept going and he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. He wasn’t any better than the bad guys if he did.

In an attempt to cheer Peter up from his light cold and fearing that Peter would feel a little homesick and miss Aunt May, Tony decided to do a thing that only encouraged Peter to get out there even more.

On the Sunday, Peter was busying himself rewatching Blade Runner when he heard a weird whooshing noise and a frustrated hiss, followed by a curse.

“For fucks sake, Vision, what’d we say about the walls?!” A man said exasperatedly.

“My sincerest apologies, that notion appears to continuously escape from me. I must enforce this a lot stricter,” An English man said.

“Clint, give him a break. I’m sure he will get it,” A female said softly.

Peter tensed slightly at the realisation, exhilaration tingling in his body in anticipation. He whipped around and a small gasp was forced out of him, eyes twinkling in delight when he saw what he saw.

Before him was The Scarlet With, Hawkeye and the Vision, and they were so fucking cool.

“Oh my gosh, this is so cool!” Peter exclaimed, bouncing off of his seat in excitement.

Wanda smiled at him fondly, “I mean, I would not quite say these two are cool, but I would say so for myself. Not these two.”

Clint gave him a grin, “You’re pretty cool, kid. You really impressed back in Berlin, I mean, we hated you because you weren’t on the right side, but you were really fucking cool. But hey, we like you now!”

The Vision nodded, “I do agree. You did display some rather exemplary skills in the battlefield.”

Peter went bright red, and his time it wasn’t from his endless coughing or slight fever, he felt unbelievably touched and inspired.

“A-awh, no..I..I wasn’t that great,” Peter said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know, it’s nice and refreshing to have a young guy on the team. It’s like hope, you know? Knowing that justice will still be served even when we grow old and weary. You’re the next generation of super heroes, and my heart feels a little more at ease,” Clint smiled softly.

Peter’s heart swelled, “P-part o-of the team?”

He wasn’t sure if the croak in his voice was from shock or from his cold.

“Of course, Peter. You’re one of us now, and I’m looking forward to working with you!” Wanda beamed.

“Of course, when Mr Stark allows you. He is very fond and protective of you, it seems, and you will need a little more experience but with after you have acquired that you will surely be a full fledged member of the team,” The Vision said warmly.

“W-wow, I don’t want to sa–” Peter choked, both from overwhelming emotion, and also from a cough that began to strangle his throat and forced out a harsh cough that escalated into numerous, harsh and chesty coughs that had him flushing red with embarrassment and doubling over by sheer force.

Tony sighed fondly, and managed a little smile before approaching the boy and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, patting him on the shoulder, “Alright, that’s enough for today. You guys can go off and be losers, while both of us can do our cool thing, yeah?”

Peter managed a shaky smile, “Yeah, definitely.”

And he definitely would.

This whole thing gave Peter this sudden surge of energy and motivation, this itch that wouldn’t stop burning in him that yearned to serve justice. He couldn’t just sit around and rest, the whole world did not work that way. He had to stand and fight, and he had to do it for the avengers.

Some sickness wasn’t going to stop him. Definitely not now.

“Hey Mr Stark? Are you cool with me going over to Ned’s for our project?” Peter asked, a slightly raspy grit to his voice as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He smothered an itchy series of coughs against his shoulder in irritation.

Tony reemerge from the kitchen, a frown plastered onto his face, “What? Are you sure you should be working like this?”

He shuffled up to Peter and placed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead, frowning, “You’re a little warm, Peter..and you’re still pretty sick..”

Peter shot him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be just fine, Mr Stark..Mr Callahan will kill me if we don’t have this project finished!”

Tony looked worried, “O-okay. Here, I’ll give you a ride..”

“No!” Peter said a little too quickly.

“U-uh, I mean..I’ve been really wanting some fresh air..” Peter tried hopelessly, lifting his fist to his face as he began to cough forcefully. It left him feeling a little nauseous.

Tony’s worry only elevated, “Pete..What if you get worse? I don’t want you to get sicker than you already are!”

Peter offered him a soft smile, “I really appreciate your concern..but I’m fine. I think you’re worrying a bit too much. Take a breather.”

Tony sighed, “Okay. You’re right. Go ahead.”

Peter turned around with a grin, only for Tony to yell out a “Wait!” He whipped around in confusion.

Tony rushed towards the hallway and thrust a thick warm coat and a woolly scarf into Peter’s arms, which he barely caught, “Wear these, okay?”

Peter chuckled fondly, “Okay.”

The cold wind left his body in shivers, his teeth chattering as he walked through the bitterly cold air. Peter groaned as he threw on the suit in an alleyway, the harsh cold winds piercing into his skin and causing him to tremble. He let out a hacking cough, doubled over by the sheer force and spluttered, grabbing onto a garbage can to maintain his balance. He had coughed so violently he felt a bit sick at that.

Once he finished his fit, he leaned against the damp, cold stone walls to try and catch his breath, recover from his fit as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes to block out any other stimulus that could potentially worsen his state. Peter felt awfully dizzy, way too warm, horribly woozy in the worst possible way. He felt a wave of nausea hit his stomach, shortly followed by a splitting headache that had deathly tremors that radiated from its epicentre.

Peter felt so awful that his entire body was telling him to stop. To go home.

But his heart was thinking of justice. And how if he didn’t patrol tonight’s someone’s father, or mother, husband, wife, brother, sister..doesn’t matter, somebody could potentially not come home.

That was enough to keep him going.

So Peter shot up his web slinger towards a building, and he swung from building to building, passion burning in his heart. He scanned the land below him, searching and keeping guard. He’d make sure everyone was safe.

It was like that for the next 10 minutes, him swinging from building to building to scan the area. Peter didn’t realise how fast he was going until suddenly the world began to spin and tilt and move. And his stomach cramped and a tidal wave of nausea hit him hard and suddenly his web slinger broke off from the last building and he was falling. He felt scarily light.

Peter skidded across the top floor of an apartment block, his skin scraping against the gravel. He let out a groan as he felt the burning sensation of pain on his skin, but he couldn’t think of the pain for long because his stomach cramped painfully. Peter gagged and ran towards a trash can that was oddly kept on the top floor of this building, yanking his mask off and hurled into it. His stomach contracted and heaved as he puked into the bin, and spluttered when he was finished.

Peter collapsed against the floor, defeated. He held his pounding head in his hands as it spun rapidly at an alarming rate. He could hear the beating of his heart as he gasped for air, feeling awfully lighthearted and pathetic. Peter felt so weak like this. So useless.

He shivered violently with his rampaging fever, feeling his hands turn to ice and they shook. He felt so fevered and sick. He just wanted to go home and curl into bed. He felt utterly miserable.

Peter had started to wonder why he had even bothered in the first place, beginning to lose himself into this spiralling vortex of dark thoughts and self loathing when suddenly he heard the loud clicking of heels against the pavement, in a hurried, rapid pace.

Peter perked up in alarm, rushing towards the edge of the building so he could see what was going on. Down, he saw a woman hurriedly walk down the street in her club outfit that Peter thought was very nice and flattering on her. He smiled softly, but it was quickly wiped off his face when he saw a small group of drunk, bumbling men trailing after her yelling out horrible slurs.

Peter frowned, descending slightly and sitting down on one of the apartment’s balconies. This woman seemed able to protect herself, so Peter would let her, but he’d be there just in case. Once the men caught sight of him, they began to back off. Peter’s heart melted as the woman looked up at him with a grateful smile. She quickly unlocked the door to her apartment and disappeared into it.

It was then Peter remembered why he did this.

Peter weakly opened the door to the living room, smothering a weak cough against his shoulder when Tony sprang up from his chair and rushed towards him.

“Oh god! Peter! You’re okay..” Tony said breathlessly, a shaky timbre to his voice. His hair was a mess, a little paler, and he looked clearly very shaken up. Peter felt extremely guilty that he had done this to him.

Quickly Tony turned angrier, “Do you know what time it is?! Way past ‘doing a project with Ned’, definitely! Why didn’t you even send a text? Do you know the world you’re living in, Peter?! The world I live in?!”

“Tony–” Peter tried.

“Peter, this world has taken so many people I love!” Tony shouted, before suddenly his face fell and he deflated. He looked so much older. So tired. He sunk against his chair.

“..I don’t want the same to happen to you,” Tony whispered bitterly.

Peter stood shocked, not knowing what to say. He looked around as if his surroundings would give him an answer. Peter sighed eventually, kneeling down on the floor and taking Tony’s hands, so they wouldnt shake.

“I’m so sorry Mr Stark..I didn’t want to worry you..It’s just–my phone ran out of battery and Ned and I–”

“For fuck’s sake, Pete–you went on the patrol. Say it. Don’t lie to me. I hate bullshit.”

Peter gulped, “Y-yeah. Sorry. I did…I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to worry you–it’s just..seeing Hawkeye and the Vision and–”

Tony sighed tiredly, “I know. Peter, you’re a great kid. You don’t have to go proving it all the time. We know.”

Tony cupped his face anxiously, as if to try and reassure himself Peter was still here. He frowned.

“You’re even worse. Go to bed, Pete. Get some sleep and rest. I don’t want you going to school tomorrow.”

Peter sighed and nodded, hating that he was going to break another promise. But Señor Zapanta was going to have his head if he wasn’t there for the test tomorrow.

“Good night Mr Stark,” Peter called out softly as he began to retreat into his bedroom.

“Good night, kiddo,” Tony said quietly, deflated.

Peter gulped as the guilt in his heart intensified, and he went to bed uneasily knowing Tony sat there in the living room like that. And that Peter did this to him.

Peter had left a note for Tony that morning saying he felt a lot better.

He hated lying to him twice, but Peter couldn’t miss school. Jokes on him, karma was a bitch.

All the buses to school were full that morning. And the gases and smoke the cars emitted made Peter cough so much that Peter wanted to vomit then and there. He would’ve if it wasn’t for the literal sea of people at the bus stop. He had waited for a good hour waiting for a bus to actually stop, and when he finally did it was ridiculously packed and full of strange and overpowering odours. It was the most agonising bus experience of his entire life, and Peter felt so nauseous and faint he wanted to crawl up on the floor and cry.

Peter eventually made it to school, 5 minutes before Spanish started. Once he got off the bus he was hit by a huge wave of sickness, and wooziness. He felt incredibly dizzy, stumbling as he walked in zig zag formations. Peter managed to get himself inside the school, when suddenly his stomach cramped and he sprinted towards the closest bathroom. He yanked the doors open and collapsed against a toilet and threw up again, heaving. His stomach hurt from how much he was puking.

Peter doesn’t even remember what happened next, because he’s not quite sure if he even had control of his body. He felt so disconnected from himself and like he was walking aimlessly through this feverish haze. Everything seemed to be fading in and out, he could barely see or hear or feel and all he could think off was the weakness weighing down on his shoulders.

Peter faintly remembered walking into the Spanish classroom, and the horrified looks on the teacher and his classmates’ faces, and then everything seemed to go black and he felt oddly peaceful.

Peter’s not sure what happened after that, but from what Ned told him, what happens shortly after his black out Ned quickly “and totally calmly, I was so cool Peter, let me tell you” phoned Tony to come collect him.

Señor Zapanta carried him over to the nurse’s office which Ned says was very cool and very “Die Hard” esque. Peter disagrees, but Ned’s entitled to that opinion. What happened next, Ned says, was the coolest thing.

So Tony stomped into school like it was nobody’s business, suit and all, walking straight through the sea of gawking, star struck teenagers (particularly Flash–apparently he had to visit the nurse shortly after he passed out) to get straight to Peter. Because that was all that mattered to him.

Peter wished he could have seen that, but he only remembers what happened after Tony’s big catwalk.

Peter remembered waking up to a bright light, and Tony’s concerned face sitting down next to him in some chair.

“M..Mr Stark..?”

Tony’s face instantly broke it’s worried state and fell into a relieved one, allowing in one huge breath with relief, “Oh thank god, Peter!”

Peter had a sudden dose of deja vu when Tony’s happy face contorted into an angry one, just like it had last night.

“I told you not to go to school last night, Peter! What was the point of Aunt May leaving you with me if I can’t even get you to listen?! What’s going on, Peter?! Why can’t you just follow instructions? You had me worried sick this morning, and when your friend called me saying you passed out?! You have no clue what that does to a man, Peter!” Tony scolded.

Upon seeing the guilty, sad, almost frightened look on Peter’s Tony sighed, sinking back into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“Did nothing I say to you last night mean anything? Huh? What the hell was that about? I spill my guts out to you and you go on and do the thing I literally said brings me into panic attacks?” Tony said quietly, deflated.

Tears pricked Peter’s eyes and his lip trembled, feeling immensely guilty and wondering why he was the way he was. He hated that he was like this.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter managed, feeling a mental block stopping him. But looking into Tony’s sad, tired eyes set him free, “..I guess..I’m not used to other people caring for me this much..I’ve only ever had Aunt May, Ned…”

He trailed off, biting his lip.

“..and Uncle Ben…” Peter whispered, voice cracking, “..and he’s gone now.”

“I-I don’t know M-Mr Stark. I think I’m scared. I…”

Peter smiled shakily, “I’m scared of losing you too.”

Tony’s heart broke, “O-oh Pete..”

Tony went in for a hug and cradled Peter like that, trying his best to fill Peter with as much love and care his heart could possibly muster.

“..I’m really not good at this, I’m so sorry Peter, but I’m trying,” Tony whispered.

“I know you are. And that’s not nothing, Mr Stark. It’s something. That’s all I’ve ever asked for,” Peter whispered lovingly, soaking in the warmth of his embrace.

Tony sniffled as a tear escaped his eye, a soft smile playing on his lips, “Lets go home.”

[cardioasscular]

Hi Julie! I'm new to tumblr so I'm not sure if this is the right place to ask this. I think that I may have autism. I wasn't diagnosed, but I know that some people aren't diagnosed until later in life for a lot of reasons. I'm just curious if you had any advice for figuring out whether I am on the spectrum? I've done some research but it's hard to know where to start. No pressure if you can't/don't want to answer! :) From, Bee

It’s okay! No problem, and feel free to message me any time! I actually don’t know exactly what to tell you in all honesty because I can’t remember what my life was like before I was diagnosed (I was diagnosed at a young age - I think either 3rd or 4th grade). But I can definitely tell you some things that I know about myself/that I’ve experienced that may be able to help you!

-I’ve always had an intense obsession with one specific topic (usually one main one at a time, with others that are still intense, but not AS much), which has varied through the years. Many autistic people call it a “special interest,” mine right now is TGD. The first one I can remember is dogs, which (of course) I still and will always love. 

-Everything used to be way too loud for me. I do remember that I used to wear earplugs and snow earmuffs in the cafeteria in elementary school. Over time, I learned to be able to tolerate loudness more, but it can still get really overwhelming at times, especially if there’s more than one type of noise at the same time (like when I’m at work and the oven and dough presser are both going, along with people talking and phones ringing.)

-I can’t stand certain textures. Mine are greasy things, like liquid butter or bacon (I still eat it, but I have to get almost all of the grease off with paper towels), and those holographic/3D things that people love to scratch (and make THE WORST sound that I can’t stand, either). I have an autistic friend who can’t stand chalk or fleece. It varies - unlike my friend, I love fleece!

-I either talk way too loud when I’m comfortable around people, or if I’m not, I don’t talk much, if at all. I find it hard to look people directly in the eye and tend to look above or below their eyes. 

-Light, like sound, can get intense for me as well. I have to carry sunglasses with me because sometimes, especially if I’m tired because it seems like my sensory overload problems get worse when I’m tired, the sun is just way too bright and I can’t always get inside to avoid it.

-I tend to do some repetitive actions, and they bring me comfort. For example, I run my hands through my hair a lot, and I pick at/bite my nails and the skin around my nails (yeah, I know, it’s not good for me, I’m trying to kick that habit).

-I find “fidget toys” useful. My favorite are these spinner rings that I have: I have one that’s blue and silver and one that’s kind of rainbow-ish and silver - I got them as a set of 2 on Amazon for like $10 if you think you’d enjoy them!

-I love to hold and squeeze things like pillows and stuffed animals. It’s comforting to me, and the pressure feels amazing - I REALLY want one of those weighted blankets, but they’re expensive and I’m not 100% certain that I’d use it as much as I’d want to (I get really hot at night). 

-When I’m overloaded, sometimes I shut down. I don’t talk, I barely move, I space out, and I stare at one specific spot. Sometimes it scares both other people and myself because they don’t know what’s going on, and I feel so overwhelmed that I can’t physically get the words out. 

-Sometimes I feel my own emotions too intensely. If something makes me really excited, some people would say that I get “too excited.” On the other hand, the worst part is when I’m sad or upset because a minor thing that might make someone else stressed or sad (for example, I got confused about when lab met last week and missed it, and ended up having a meltdown because of it. Most people would probably be stressed and/or upset, but wouldn’t be as upset as I got.)

-On the flip side, I have an EXTREMELY hard time feeling for other people, which I hate because it makes me seem like the stereotypical “empathy-less autistic.” It’s hard for me to relate to others’ troubles, and even though I try to be comforting, I always feel like I’m not doing it right, or that I’m making it worse. There actually have been times when I HAVE made it worse, and it made me feel completely shitty. I’m horrible at giving advice (so if none of this helps, I am extremely sorry). 

-I’m horrible at teaching and giving advice. I have difficulty saying exactly what I mean sometimes, which means that sometimes, people get the wrong idea, or they just don’t understand what I’m trying to say. Most of the time, it’s fine and I can just explain more and people eventually know what I mean, but it’s gotten me into some deep shit before. 

-I’m incredibly observant, which is both a blessing and a curse at times given the situation. I notice things that others may not. A good example was when a few weeks ago, my psychology professor was trying to log into the computer, which was projected on the front of the room. It kept giving the “username/password is incorrect” message, and I noticed that she had accidentally hit the spacebar and there was a space before her username, which fixed the problem. A bad example is when there’s a ton of noise, like I mentioned earlier, or multiple people having multiple conversations. 

I could give so many more examples, but I feel like this is already much longer than I wanted in the first place. 

One thing that I would try is to ask some people around you that you love and trust if they notice any typical actions that seem “weird.” If you’re close with your parents, ask about your actions as a child. 

Questions like, “When did I start talking?” “Did I seem unattached to Mom/Dad at first?” “Did I have any ‘odd’ obsessions?” “Did I fit in with other children my age, or did I stand out due to ‘weird’ actions?” may help. 

Observe your actions, and see if you catch yourself doing something that you don’t know exactly “why” you’re doing it, that other people don’t typically seem to do. 

One thing that I think would really help, if you haven’t already, make some in-person friends (online friends are wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but most of the time you can’t see how your online friends act) who are autistic! Observe some of their behavior, maybe ask a few questions like, “why do you do (x)?” and explain that you have some questions about autism, that you’d like to have a better understanding. Although I do feel uncomfortable talking about myself a majority of the time, I am always happy to explain to others who have a good heart and just want to understand, learn, and support. 

Every autistic person is different, so what others may do/feel may not apply to you, and that’s perfectly okay! 

It’s always good to ask questions, and I don’t know about your situation, but many public K-12 schools do some academic testing that can point you in the right direction. If you’re a university student (I’m not 100% sure about it, but the University of Tennessee in Knoxville does this), maybe look into your school’s psychology program. Students (under the direction of their professors, of course) can perform academic testing. I think this does cost, though, and I have no idea what the prices are. My college’s disabilities services program sent me to UT for testing and paid for it so I could have updated information, as my last evaluations were done in elementary school. 

Again, feel free to message me any time! I’m usually available, but sometimes I do get busy, which is why (and I’m so sorry about this) I took a super long time and answered you super late. 

(If you’re autistic as well and have any advice to offer, please feel free to add on!)